French’s International Copyrighted (in England, her Col¬ 
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No. 395 



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NEW YORK 
Samuel French 
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THE PILGRIMS’ 
HOLIDAY 

B jplay fr» ©ne Bet 


BY 

VIDA RAVENSCROFT SUTTON 


Copyright, 1920, by Samuel French 

























fr 



The Pilgrims' Holiday 


A PLAY IN ONE ACT 


WITH PROLOGUE BEFORE THE 
CURTAIN 


BY 

VIDA RAVENSCROFT SUTTON 


Copyright, 1920, by Samuel French 


New York 
SAMUEL FRENCH 
Publisher 

28-30 West 38th Street 


London 

SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 
26 Southampton Street 
Strand 





THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 

“The Pilgrims’ Holiday” is fully protected by 
copyright, and all rights are reserved. 

Permission to act, read publicly, or make any use 
of it must be obtained from Samuel French, 28-30 
West 38th Street, New York. 

It may be presented by amateurs upon payment 
of royalty of five dollars, each performance payable 
to Samuel French one week before the date when 
the play is given. 

Professional rates quoted on application. 

Whenever this play is to be produced the follow¬ 
ing notice must appear on all programs, printing and 
advertising for the play: Produced by special ar¬ 
rangement with SAMUEL FRENCH of New 
York. 


©GLO 5 GO CO 


NOV 20 1920 



SCENARIO 


A letter has been sent to the Pilgrim Fathers, in¬ 
viting them to a memorial. Their answer is re¬ 
ceived, and, as so many of them are to be present, 
it is decided to call the roll of the Mayflower com¬ 
pany. 

As the Master of Ceremonies is reading the roll, 
he is interrupted by the arrival of Priscilla Mullins 
and two other Pilgrim ladies. Priscilla offers to 
help him with the entertainment. The Master of 
Ceremonies is immensely relieved and turns the en- 
tainment over to her. 

The curtain rises, showing the home of the Wins¬ 
lows in Plymouth, in 1620. Priscilla is putting the 
finishing touches to the room. She and John Alden 
turn back an invisible clock of the centuries, and 
set the date at their happiest day, the ninth of No¬ 
vember, 1621. The scene grows dark for a moment 
and then the play begins. 

The events of that memorable day in which the 
second ship, The Fortune, came to Plymouth, is 
played, some liberties being taken with history to 
unify the action. The climax is the betrothal of 
Priscilla and John. 

At the most dramatic moment the lights go out. 
There is a silence, and the noises and exclamations. 
The clock is running forward again. 

They are brought up to date by a knock at the 
door. It is John Alden of the eighth generation 
come to summon them to an historical pageant at 
Duxbury. Reluctantly they bid farewell to their 
audience, and make ready for the next event. 


3 


CAST OF CHARACTERS 


Master of Ceremonies, who appears before the 
curtain. 

Priscilla Mullins, orphaned daughter of William 
Mullins. 

Desire Mintern, member of the colony who re¬ 
turned to England. 

John Alden, clerk and scribe of the colony. 
Edward Winslow, elder of the church. 

Mistress Susanna Winslow, second wife of Ed¬ 
ward Winslow. * 

Squanto, Indian guide and friend. 

Philim>e la Noye, passenger on the ship Fortune. 
John Bradford, second governor of Plymouth. 
John Alden, of the eighth generation. 

Invisible Company, descendents of the Mayflower 
Pilgrims. 

Scenes. Prologue before the curtain. Interior of 
a Pilgrim home. 

' COSTUMES 

The usual Pilgrim costumes shown in the illus¬ 
trated histories. Addison’s “The Romantic Story of 
the Pilgrim Fathers” gives full-page illustrations 
from the paintings of Boughton. It also has a copy 
of the portrait of Edward Winslow, the only au¬ 
thentic portrait of a Pilgrim Father. 


4 


/ 


! 


The Pilgrims’ Holiday 


PROLOGUE BEFORE THE CURTAIN 

| X 

Master of Ceremonies. (Appearing before the 
curtain with a letter, a scroll j, and a parchment in 
his hands) 

Ladies and gentlemen, it is not necessary to re¬ 
mind you that this year marks the 300th anniver¬ 
sary of the coming of the Pilgrim Fathers. Some 
weeks ago we sent an invitation to those worthy 
and brave pioneers to gather here to-night and par¬ 
ticipate in this memorial, together with as many of 
their descendents as might care to come. We were 
somewhat embarrassed when we learned that these 
number some half million or more. 

However, our apprehensions have been allayed 
by the receipt of this letter in reply to our invita¬ 
tion, which, with your kind permission, we will 
read. Ahem. (He opens the letter) 

Worthy Master of Ceremonies:— 

I, John Howland, one time clerk and scribe of 
the Plymouth Company, greet you, being authorized 
by our esteemed first governor, John Carver, to re¬ 
turn most earnest thanks to you for the honor you 
have bestowed upon us in making this holiday, and 
to inform you that similar invitations being very 
numerous during the present season, we have been 
obliged to draw lots to see to whom the favor of 
being present with you on this happy occasion, 
should fall. 

Certain well-known men and women of our Col- 

5 


6 


THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 


o'ny were the favored of fortune, and will be with 
you as promptly as the exigencies of travel will 
permit. 

It was suggested by our governor that any others 
of our original company who found themselves dis¬ 
engaged should make an effort to-jom with you. 

Most of our descendents, we regret to say, we 
have been unable to summon, so but a handful may 
be expected. If it suit you upon the arrival of your 
audience, to call the roll of our Mayflower company, 
a more certain identity of those fortunate enough to 
be with you, can most speedily be established. 

I have the honor to remain, my dear sir, 

Obediently yours, 

John Howland, 

One time clerk of Plymouth. 

(He folds up the letter, pauses a moment and 

continues ) 

Following the suggestion of John Howland, since 
we are all assembled and our guests are doubtless in 
our midst, I will call the roll of the Mayflower Com¬ 
pany. 

If those present will kindly make themselves 
known, it will serve as an introduction to you, kind 
audience of the distinguished guests among us. 

I have here (holding up parchment) the original 
ship’s bill-of-passage, giving the entire company of 
ioi souls that set sail from Delfthaven in 1620. 

The list is alphabetical, and the first name thereon 
is John Alden, a cooper of Southampton. John 
Alden? Is he present? 

Voice. I am here in spirit. If possible I will 
appear later. There is some difficulty in this, for 
your invitation did not state what age I was to don. 

If I may be permitted to save you the trouble of 
needlessly calling the roll, allow me to say that all 
of the Allertons, the Billingtons, Peter Brown and 


THE PILGRIMS' HOLIDAY 


7 

William Button, and our esteemed first governor, 
John Carver, are obliged to regret because of pre¬ 
vious engagements. 

Master of Ceremonies. My profound thanks to 
you, John Alden, for your aid. We will continue 
the roll after John Carver. 

James Chilton—Richard Clarke—Francis Cook— 
John Cook—Humility Cooper—John Crackstone— 
One Ely—Moses Fletcher—Giles Hopkins—Desire 
Mintern—William Mullins (He pauses, some¬ 
what embarrassed ) 

This is most distressing. It doesn’t seem as if 
any of them had responded to our invitation. 

Priscilla Mullins. (She suddenly appears be¬ 
side him in the costume she wears throughout the 
play, and makes a deep courtesy) An’ it please your 
honor, I am Priscilla Mullins. The only one of the 
Mullins family that could be present this evening. 
Permit me to introduce my companions. (Quite as 
suddenly as she appeared, two other ladies appear 
beside her, also costumed as they appear later) 
Mistress Winslow, once Mistress White, second 
wife of Edward Winslow, esteemed elder and 
writer of books; and this Desire Mintern, one of 
our youthful members, companion of my loneliness 
the first year in Plymouth, when my dear family 
were called away. 

Master of Ceremonies. Ladies, Mistress Mul¬ 
lins, Mistress Winslow and Desire Mintern, most 
happy are we to greet you. Er-er-won’t you be 
seated ? 

Priscilla. We are beholden to you for your 
kindness, but an’ it please you we will bide our 
time behind this goodly hanging. (The others pre¬ 
cede her, and just as they disappear, she turns, 
curtsies again and says) I was bidden tell you that 
the other of your guests, William Bradford and Ed- 



8 


THE* PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 

ward Winslow, are close upon our heel and that 
all of the descendents of the Mayflozver Company 
are coming, too. * ^ 

Master. (Gasping) What, all of them? 

Priscilla. Don’t be alarmed. In spirit only 
♦ are they coming. Their numbers will not be no¬ 
ticed in the least. \ 

Master. If the crowd is as great as that, you 
will have to help us entertain them, I feel quite 

helpless. # .. 

Priscilla. I donned the aspect of my happiest 
day to come this day to you, and so please you. I 
could not be better pleased than to help you. 

Master. Could anything be more fortunate? 

Priscilla. (Curtsying) Pm glad you’re pleased. 

Master. I was at my wit’s end—I’ve just been 
killing time while the understudy is learning his 
lines. The leading man collapsed when he heard 
who was in the audience. I am immensely relieved. 

Priscilla. (Curtsying) We will be ready in 
the twinkling of an eye. ( She disappears behind the 
curtain ) 

Master. (Unrolling manuscript) And now for 
my speech of welcome. A fprmal necessity, I sup¬ 
pose. Ahem- Pilgrim Fathers and Mothers 

and worthy descendents of these, though we can¬ 
not see you, we know you are here, and we greet 
you with the warmest of welcomes. And those not 
so fortunate as to be Pilgrim Descendents, we greet 
you warmly, too. We have a speech to deliver. 
(He looks questioningly at his manuscript) It’s 
quite an oration. But what’s the use. You are im¬ 
patient for the curtain, and not listening to a word 
I’ve got To say. Well, for once I’ll please you. 
Come. We will begin. (Exit Master of Cere¬ 
monies. The curtain slowly opens, showing in- 
v \ terior of Edward Winslow’s house in Plymouth, 



THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 


9 

November 9, 1621. At the center left is the door . 
To the right of the door high casement windows, 
above the level of a person standing. On the left 
side of the room is the huge fireplace, with kitchen 
utensils hanging from it, and deep shelves on either 
side of its interior. A high-backed settle is placed 
at right angles to the fireplace and partitions the fire¬ 
place from the rest of the room. A round table 
stands at the end of the settle. In front of the 
table is a spinning wheel and a low chair. If neces¬ 
sary, the scene may be simplified to a fireplace, set¬ 
tle, several chairs and the center door. Priscilla 
Mullins seen putting the finishing touches to 
the room) - / 

Priscilla. Dear room I lovedT Dear things I’ve 
thought about so often. (She surveys the room) 
Can it be you,are only memories, called here by my 
thoughts of you? (Goes to the spinning wheel) 
How often have I helped Dame Winslow at this 
wheel (She sits by the fire in one corner of the 
settle) and sat here, hearing Edward Winslow read, 
John Alden by my side. (Looks toward the door) 
Why does he keep me waiting? (Listens) He is 
coming now. (She ~mns to the door and opens it) 
John Alden! 

Alden. Y Standing in the doorway) Priscilla! 
(He embraces her) 

Priscilla. How long you’ve been in comiffg. 
I’ve waited longer than I ever had to wait before. 

Alden. I do not understand. Where are we? 
What is it? 

Priscilla. Can you not see? The very room 
where three hundred years ago I listened to your 
wooing ? 

Alden. Winslow’s house. We are here again, 
and in the guise of that very day. How comes this? 
It all seems very strange to me. 


10 


THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 


Priscilla. Do we not live this day, yea many 
days, in memory? Dear John, this is a memory of 
that dear day so long ago. 

Alden. And I embrace you now as I did then. 
The same Priscilla that I knew and loved. This 
golden day is lived again too seldom. 

Priscilla. To live these moments o’er and o’er 
as one might read a cherished volume aloud to one’s 
beloved, is ours to do. 

Alden. To dream a golden moment swift in 
passing. It comes and goes. Priscilla, even now 
the memory is slipping. The dream is fading from 
my eyes. 

Priscilla*: John Alden, listen. Know you what 
year this is? 

Alden. The calendar says ’tis 1920 and No¬ 
vember. 

Priscilla. ’Tis so, indeed. And but a trick of 
our imagination holds the moment of the past. 
But know you this is an age of remarkable inven¬ 
tion. By chance I’ve stumbled on the greatest, not 
yet known to man. Revealed to me by its inventor, 
yet to come to fame. See you that object on the 
wall? (She points to the wall opposite the fire¬ 
place. There is nothing visible, but slowly a faint 
light seems to glow from the spot) 

Alden. I but faintly can make out the outline. 

Priscilla. That’s because ’tis made of fabric 
finer than the web of thought. 

Alden. What is it? 

Priscilla. The time-piece of the world since 
man began. 

Alden. What ? 

Priscilla. It rolls the centuries within its wheels 
and we can turn them back again. 

Alden. Turn back the years? A miracle of 
miracles. 


THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 


ii 


Priscilla. Sh. Don’t touch it. It’s set to go 
off soon. And for twelve hours the wheels turn 
back three hundred years and one. ’Tis 1920 now, 
wait but a moment and that day, November 9, 1621, 
will dawn again. This world for us will cease and 
those who came into this room upon that day will 
breathe and move and speak and live again. (It 
grows slowly dark. Then the spot of light glows 
again and becomes a larger radiant circle which re¬ 
volves with a whirling sound, then slowly dies 
out) 

Alden. Where are you, Priscilla? Don’t go 
away. 

Priscilla. Don’t speak, John. The centuries 
are moving back. (The chiming of bells is faintly 
heard, distant music and the words of an old Pil¬ 
grim anthem. This may be either the One hun¬ 
dredth or Twenty-seventh Psalm chanted or in¬ 
toned. As the music dies away, the lights come 
slowly on again, showing the room at twilight^ No¬ 
vember 9, in 1621. Edward Winslow is reclining 
on the settle smoking a long pipe , and reading a 
manuscript. He holds a long quill pen in his hand. 
On the table at the end of the settle is an ink horn , 
and several books. Susanna Winslow is listening 
to him and spinning the zvhile) 

Winslow. Pah, I’m too stupid. I’ve dozed the 
livelong day. Too dull e’en to add one good line 
to my story. It sounds flat to me to-day, enough 
to discourage my ever finishing it. 

Susanna. Thou hast worked too close for a 
man with fever in his blood. Hadst thou the wit 
to have lodged thyself indoors while the cold was 
upon thee, I’d not be stewing herbs over the fire all 
day, and thou wouldst be on the hunt after deer 
with the others. 

Winslow. E’en so ’tis a good thing, dame, this 


12 


THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 


distemper struck me not at harvest time. But for¬ 
sooth, it ill suits my temper to stay by the fire like 
a sick girl, and not venture forth lest I chill my 
blood. I like it no whit better than thou dost like 
the care of me. 

Susanna. I complain not of the care. And ’tis 
not like thee to be querulous, goodman. To-day 
and every day thy color is more wonted, and to-day 
thou hast been pleased to be busy with thy script 
all day. 

Winslow. And yet I’ve scarce the introduction 
finished. I’m much perplexed to find a title. What 
thinkest thou of “Good News from New England” 
for a name? 

Susanna. But is it all good news, goodman? 
Art thou leaving out the bitter months when we first 
landed here? 

Winslow. Not so forsooth. In full detail ’tis 
here. It serveth well as shadow for the spring and 
summer that hath blessed us. And, wife, I’ve 
minded to indite the introduction in verse. 

Susanna. In verse? A plain spoken man as 
thou art hadst better keep to prose. 

Winslow. Nay, wife, ’tis to be verse. A hap¬ 
pier form, and one suited to forecast the good for¬ 
tune that our struggles have led to. Listen:— 

“Then sought we Holland, a kind land where we 
might sheltered be, 

And worship God, escaping England’s tyranny. 

And in that land a goodly time was spent and fate 
was kind 

And prosperous were we but not content in mind.” 

Susanna. Goodly indeed. Thou hast stepped 
easily into verse. Not one line has a limp.. 

Winslow. Hear this: 


THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 


13 


“And now a year has passed in this wild land, 

Much comfort have we found and blessed our Pil¬ 
grim band, 

Game and fruit abundant, fish of every kind 
A goodly brew of beere, 

^fea, everything we find.” 

Susanna. I like not the mention of beere. 

Winslow. What dost thou mean, good wife? 
’Tis no more nor bread nor meat nor milk. 

Susanna. Beere hath a vulgar sound. It doth 
not seem poetical and it spoileth the line of dignity. 

Winslow. Well, well, I’ll cross it out. (Leans 
over to dip his quill in the ink-horn, then stops) No. 
It must stay in or else the meter halts. Thou art a 
good critic natheless. What thinkest thou of this? 
“All things to those who seek with patience true 
Shall come in time by God’s own promise due. 
And they of faith they shall rewarded be 
Yea, though the search hath led them ’cross the 
sea.” 

Susanna. So tuneful it goeth like a psalm. 

Winslow. Here’s more that is tuneful. 

“Monarchs proud-” 

Susanna. (Interrupting) An’thou art going to 
put into verse those lines about King James? I’ll 
not be party e’en to hear them read. ’Twas bad 
enough to talk of the king in plain prose. I’ll not 
listen to softened rhyme. Forsooth, thou knowest 
I cannot sit quietly by and hear thee say, even out 
of courtesy to rhyme, anything in compliment, to 
the king. 

Winslow. Good wife, there is no word of the 
king. At no little cost of pain and trouble I have 
removed some twenty lines. 

Susanna. And worthily. As I am a' Christian, 
the very word* king makes my blood rebel. We 



14 


THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 


asked but liberty and power under God for choos¬ 
ing and ordaining our own ministers, and for that 
he would hang us alT and for that were obliged to 
seek this desolate land in the wilderness. 

Winslow. Such bitterness of speech doth ill be¬ 
come a woman of thy mildness. ^ 

Susanna. Forsooth I am a woman of mildness. 
So are we all, but an’ our spirits would have re¬ 
belled against the torments set upon us here. Land¬ 
ing in the dead of winter, in a land of savages, 
sickness and starvation upon us, and half our num¬ 
ber dead ere spring. Mild indeed. 

Winslow. Canst thou speak so when our rich 
harvest’s freshly garnered, a fair supply no matter 
what the winter, a village of seven stout log houses, 
a meeting-house, a fort, game most abundant, the 
savages kindly and subdued—yea, the wilderness 
conquered in a year by a handful of men. 

Susanna. Rebuke me not, goodman. ’Tis not 
ingratitude for the blessings of God that makes me 
rail. No. ’Tis the tyranny of the king that hath set 
himself in place of the Sovereign God and doth 
usurp his power to bring misery to his fellowman. 

Winslow. Even through him doth the Almighty 
work. If ’twere not for the king’s abuses that drove 
us first from England, would we ever have under¬ 
stood what the great Calvin taught? No king but 
God supreme. His tfue church a company of men 
free to worship as the book doth say? 

Susanna. Thy faith is great and thy vision. 
What would I not give to bear all ills as thou dost, 
with such belief in what’s to follow. 

^ Winslow. Thy very life and mine is evidence. 
Cannot Susanna White, made Susanna Winslow by 
those very acts of Providence which left us both 
bereft, see how through greatest grief came happi¬ 
ness? 


THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 15 

Susanna. I know, goodman, thy faith hath 
daily evidence. 

Winslow. I do not mean to chide thee. Thou 
art ever a helpful companion, and hath an under¬ 
standing rare. 

Susanna. But natheless with my chattering I 
have spoiled the reading of thy introduction. Pray, 
goodman, begin again. 

Winslow. (Gathering up his manuscript) To¬ 
morrow, not to-day. It grows late, and I confess 
that I feel weary. 

Susanna. Rest thou then, and I’ll give thee a 
cup of good herb tea. It hath steeped long enough. 
(She gets the tea from the fire where the herbs have 
been steeping and pours him a cup) Drink thou 
this. Priscilla Mullins should be in to see us soon. 
She hath said she would come and tell us were 
there sight from the hill of the men returning. She 
and Desire Mintern would climb the hill this after¬ 
noon. 

Winslow. Priscilla and Desire! A strange 
pair that fate hath thrown together. 

Susanna. Indeed, Desire was born in an evil 
hour, and hath fallen heir to a bitter tongue, and 
a heart of discontent. 

Winslow. Belike she will be sent back to 
England when a ship doth come. There is 
some one now at the door, Susanna, shall I 
open it? 

Susanna. Disturb not thyself, goodman. ( Sus¬ 
anna opens the door, and Priscilla stands there 
with a covered dish in her hands) Priscilla, I knew 
thou wouldst not forget us, we were but now speak¬ 
ing of thee. 

Priscilla. (Entering) How is the good elder 
to-day? I have brought him a bowl of squirrel 
broth. 


/ 


16 THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 

"'Winslow. What! a new dainty? Thou art a 
marvel at making new dainties from nothing. 

Priscilla. Squanto brought the squirrels yes¬ 
terday, and hath promised a venison for a past;y, 
though, if the hunt go well, we shall be having all 
we need of venison. A shame thou art denied the 
sport. This is the third they have stayed upon it, 
and should be coming back. 

Winslow. We have been railing against our ill 
fortune like veritable heathen, Priscilla. 

Susanna. I railed, not thou. Thy patience is 
far beyond mine, as thou dost know, Priscilla. He 
hath worked all day with his quill and script, and 
hath named his work “Good News from New Eng¬ 
land.” 

Priscilla. And when will it be finished, Ed¬ 
ward Winslow? ,, 

Winslow. I hope against the time for a ship’s 
coming, perhaps in six months’ time. 

Priscilla. Indeed I have outrun you there. By 
the help of John Alden’s quick pen, I have a packet 
of letters writ to all my friends and those of my 
dear family left to me. Ready are they against the 
day a ship shall come. 

Susanna. A ship? Little hope there is of ship 
or news until the spring. 

Priscilla. ’Twas December when our goodly 
vessel landed us. - Hope’s not gone. 

Winslow. Right thou art. Keep thy stout heart 
and thy courage. 

Priscilla. ’Tis said the governor hath a stout 
packet in which is writ the deeds of every day since 
we left England. 

Winslow. Yea, and whoso loveth not this land 
of our adoption is free to board the vessel with them 
for return. What, Susanna, wouldst thou go? 

Susanna. So it is, Priscilla. Punishment for 


THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 


17 

my dull complaining. Return? I? Not an thou 
dragged me to the ship’s side. 

Priscilla. One there is who will make a joyful 
passenger. 

Susanna. Thou meanest Desire? 

Winslow. ’Tis said she will go perforce. Her 
ways have wearied e’en our patient governor. 

Priscilla. Poor child, ’tis homesickness. 

Winslow. Thou art too kind. ’Tis deviltry. 

Susanna. Why came she not with thee? 

Priscilla. We climbed to the top of the high 
hill together. She was certain she saw Squanto on 
the trail, running as if he were the bearer of news, 
and she hath gone down the steep hillside to meet 
him. (A clamor is heard outside. Cries of “Pris¬ 
cilla,” and <( Oho-o Oh-0-0,” the halloing of an In¬ 
dian) She’s coming now. What can it be? (All 
rush to the door. Winslow opens it. Desire 
Mintern bursts in, followed by Squanto, who 
stands in the door) 

Desire. (She falls sobbing in Priscilla’s arms) 
Priscilla, oh, Priscilla. 

Susanna. What is it, child, what’s hap¬ 
pened ? 

Priscilla. Hath something frightened thee? 

Winslow. What hath happened to thee ? Speak. 
f DESiRE. The ship. The ship hath come. 

*All. What! A ship ? Where doth she«lie ? 

Desire. I knew I should be first to know when 
it should come. Thou wouldst not go with me down 
the hill. I knew Squanto must be bearing back a 
message. And I was right. The ship hath come to 
land. The men have gone to help. ’Twas stranded 
in an inlet. They s&w it from the high hills where 
they hunted yesterday. 

Winslow. Thou art not dreaming, child? 

Priscilla. Can it be true? 


i8 


THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 


Priscilla. ’Twould not be the first time, De¬ 
sire, thou hadst such a dream. 

Desire. ’Tis true. ’Tis true. Ask Squanto. 
(All look inquiringly to' Squanto ) 

Squanto. The great ship with the white wings 
stands in the water. We looked and we saw from 
the high hill. Squanto is sent by the Captain to 
tell you they are coming. 

Susanna. Thank God, a word at last from those 
we left. 

Squanto. Squanto saw the white wings first. 
Squanto show the captain. Much of hurry. All go 
see. All come here soon. 

Priscilla. Others coming. Who will they be? 

Susanna. Thou art pale with fear and wonder, 
Priscilla. 

Squanto. The men are thirty-five of warriors. 
Some stay with the ship. Some will come soon. 
Squanto goes now and tells the others. (He goes) 

Desire. Look at Priscilla. White as a ghost. I 
know. She never wanted the ship to come. She 
hated to walk down the shore with me to scan the 
sky, to see if there might be a sail. Every day I 
hoped and longed, but she, I do believe, hath prayed 
it would not come. 

Susanna. Why shouldst thou, Desire Mintern, 
so cruelly mock thy friend? Her cheer hath kept us 
all in heart. 

Desire. You are all so dull. Canst thou not 
understand? I know. She promised before she 
sailed from England to marry Ralph de la Noye. 
She would wed him when he came, and he hath 
sworn to come this year, and now the fickle heart 
hath changed. She wants another. 

Susanna. For shame, Desire Mintern. 

Winslow. It seemeth thou hast spoken over¬ 
much. 


THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 


19 

Susanna. Hast thou no modesty? (Putting her 
arms about Priscilla ) Heed not her mocking 
words. She pleasures so in teasing. 

Desire. Look at her crimson face for proof. 
And when the ship’s unloaded, watch her pale to see 
who comes. (She starts to go) 

Susanna. Where art thou going, child? 

Desire. To tell the others. £ with Squanto spread 
the news. I’ll to Mistress Bradford with this 
joyous tale and then to Mistress Brewster. They’ll 
be here else, the men and all the passengers, before 
I’ve told their coming. (She goes) 

Susanna. Think not I heed her rude attack on 
thee, Priscilla. 

Priscilla. She speaketh partly true, Susanna. I 
do fear, indeed, the ship brings de la Noye. Be¬ 
trothed I was to him by thy father as thou knowest. 
If this ship brings him I’m bound by my father’s 
word to wed him. If he comes not, a letter goes 
to tell him as he came not I will be- free from the 
promise. 

Susanna. Priscilla, thou wouldst not wed 
him when thy heart hath prompted such a mes¬ 
sage ? 

Priscilla. My father’s word was given. 

Winslow. And that is why the stalwart Cap¬ 
tain Standish got no word of encouragement from 
thee. 

Susanna. What woman would be wooed by 
one man for another? 

Winslow. Thou art bold, Susanna. 

Susanna. I meant no harm, Priscilla. He chose 
a goodly messenger. And .1 had less than two eyes 
in my head, and were I as deaf as a stone, I could 
even so see where thy heart leans. Not toward a 
man so much thine elder, and a goodly handsome 
youth his spokesman. 


20 


THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 


Winslow. Good wife, thy words go beyond thy 
woman’s privilege. 

Priscilla. What matter. My fate hangs on the 
hours passing. They’ll soon be here. The men and 
letters, news from home. We should be rejoicing. 
How long this day hath been in coming. 

Winslow. Fitting it is that we should rever¬ 
ently thank God and wait the hour. 

Priscilla. I’ll go on my way to Mistress Brad¬ 
ford. I’d an errand there as well. If there is 
more to tell, I’ll bear the news at once. (She 
goes ) 

Susanna. Edward Winslow a pox, upon thy 
prattling. Hast thou not an eye in thine head, nor 
a calf’s cooked brain in thy bone-pan? ’Tis plain as 
day’s light where Priscilla’s heart takes her. As I 
am a woman and not a sheep, Miles Standish got 
his answer long ago. John Alden ’tis who hath need 
of patience. 

Winslow. If she is bound by her father’s word 
to another, there is little hope for either that I see. 
I am sorry for Miles Standish. His Rose was a 
fair lass, and Priscilla’s like her. 

Susanna. Let him mate with his age. There 
are others more suited. 

Winslow. Good wife, thou soundeth waspish. 
As waspish as i’ faith I feel. This waiting is try¬ 
ing to my patience. Give me leave to go down to 
meet the men coming. / 

Susanna. Art thou daffy, man? Hold thy pa¬ 
tience a little while longer. 

Winslow. Let me look out and see if they are 
in sight then. (He opens the door) By my faith, 
John Alden’s coming, and laden with packets. (They 
stand waiting a moment and John Alden appears, 
carrying bundles of letters) Hast thou seen the 
ship, man? 


21 


THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 

Alden. Ay, indeed. I am bearer of the let¬ 
ters. And I bring thee good news. Thy brother 
John hath come and will be with thee soon. 

Winslow. John hath come. Hearest thou that, 
Susanna ? 

Susanna. Where is he now? Why came he not 
with thee? 

Alden. Helping the passengers, he was, while 
I came on at once to bring the packets. 

Susanna. Edward, and thou canst not go to 
meet him. 

Winslow. Yea, an’ I will. 

Susanna. Nay. Thou must not. 

Alden. Hold thyself in patience, he soon will 
be here. 

Susanna. Thou hast brought many letters. 

Alden. A goodly sized packet for every one 
living. Yea, and for many that lie on the hillside. 
These are for thee. (Gives her a packet) 

Susanna. (Hugging them to her heart) At 
last, at last. A word from those we left. (Un¬ 
doing th£ packet) Edward, seest thou this ? Thy 
brother here and all these letters from thy home. 

Winslow. I did not dare to hope the first ves¬ 
sel would bring him. How long hath she been in 
passage ? When sailed she ? 

Alden. She sailed from England in August, and 
hath been three days already on our coast, ere she 
was sighted. A goodly vessel, called the Fortune, 
with thirty-three strong and lusty men and one lone 
woman. 

Susanna. Who is she? 

Alden. The widow Foord, and her three chil¬ 
dren. E’en now she is sheltered in the house of 
Mistress Brewster. And the ship hath brought no 
supplies to feed the men this winter. We will be 
put to it to supply them all till spring. 


/ 


22 THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 


Susanna. Knowest thou the names of any oth¬ 
ers? 

Alden. The man who clambered down and made 
the shore to greet us first was de la Noye. 

Susanna. De la Noye! He’s come. 

Alden. Yes. I must now to the governor’s 
house. All are assemblying there and Edward Cush¬ 
man,^who hath brought letters of great importance 
and doth come to represent the Merchant company, 
will be housed there. I am bidden deliver all the 
letters to the others, and to meet them. I am 
grieved that thy distempeb holds thee here. (He 
goes) 

Susanna. Heardst thou that unwelcome 
news ? 


Winslow. Ay, indeed. 

Susanna. What must Priscilla do? 

Winslow. What thinkest thou? 

Susanna. I do not know. Her father’s word 

( 

was given, and the man hath crossed the seas. 

Winslow. Thou wouldst not see her wed him, 
an’ what thou hast told me? 

Susanna. But can a word once given, a trc^th 
that hath been plighted be recalled ? 

Winslow. I know not. It seemeth that a prom¬ 
ise given by one to be kept by another hath little of 
conscience binding it. 

Susanna. What wouldst thou have her do? 
Winslow. She hath not asked my counsel. 
When she does, according to my conscience will I 
answer her. (A knock is heard, and then Priscilla 
opens the door) 

Susanna. (Running to her) Thou hast heard 
Priscilla. 

Priscilla. (Coming over to the settle) Yes. 
Susanna. What wilt thou do? 

Priscilla. Pray God to counsel me. 


THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 23 

Winslow. Put thy heart at rest. Thou shalt 
surely see the way. 

Susanna. John Alden brought these letters. 
See. These are for thee. Sit thou here, Priscilla, 
and we will read them. (She pulls forward the low 
chair for Priscilla, and seats herself on the settle 
beside Winslow. They are all busied with the let¬ 
ters when the door is suddenly opened and Desire 
Mtntern comes in) 

Desire. In faith thou art all mightily absorbed. 
I am bidden summon Mistress Winslow come at 
once to Mistress Brewster’s. They have need of 
her help with Widow Foord, who is most grievously 

ill. 

Susanna. (Dropping her letters and coming 
over to Desire ) May the Lord have mercy. I 
will come at once. 

Desire. And Priscilla, de la Noye is coming 
from the ship to see thee. The ship’s called 
the Fortune, as it chance, Priscilla. Dost like the 
name ? 

Susanna. (With her arms around Priscilla ) 
God give thee courage. My goodman will be with 
thee here. (She goes out with Desire, who pauses 
a moment at the door and turns to Priscilla ) 

Desire. I hope thou wilt not have long to wait 
for thy wedding. (She runs out after Susanna ) 

Priscilla. Oh, she hath an unfeeling heart. 
Good Elder, do thou advise me. What shall I say? 
Thou thinkest I am bound by my father’s word ? 

Winslow. I thinkest, Priscilla, thou must tell 
him the truth—how thou canst keep thy father’s 
word against thy heart. An’ if he be a man he will 
not hold thee. 

Priscilla. Do thou meet him first for me. I 
will rest without, a moment, and ask God for 
strength. (She goes out. Winslow lights his pipe 


/ 


f 


24 THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 

and sits by the fire. In a moment a knock comes at 
the door. He opens it to la Noye,) 

La Noye. Edward Winslow. Thou knowest me. 

Winslow. Thou art de la Noye. Welcome to 
this land. (They shake hands and Winslow leads 
him to the settle) 

La Noye. They told me I would find Priscilla 
here. 

Winslow. In a moment will she be with us. 

La Noye. Mine is a painful errand. I have a 
message for her from my brother. 

Winslow. Thy brother? 

De la Noye. My brother Ralph. He came not. 
I came alone. 

Winslow. Thou art not Ralph de la Noye? 

De la Noye. Nay. I am Philip. We both had 
thought to come, but Philip hath delayed his jour¬ 
ney. 

Winslow. Thank God, who prompted him. (He 
gets up and shades Philip’s hand warmly) Why, 
man, I am right heartily glad to see thee. (He 
goes to the door) Priscilla, Priscilla. Where art 
thou? Come here at once. (He goes back to 
Philip ) Thy brother did not come, and thou hast 
brought a message. Blessed be this day. (^Pris¬ 
cilla comes slowly in with downcast eyes. She 
stops and looks at Philip, is astonished, gasps, sinks 
into the chair beside the table) Philip de la Noye! 

Philip. Art thou not glad to see me, Pris¬ 
cilla ? 

Priscilla. I had thought to see thy brother. 
But, indeed, I cannot tell thee how glad I am to 
greet thee, Philip. (She rises and comes forward 
with her hand outstretched to welcome him) Where 
is Ralph then? 

Philip. He came not. 

Priscilla. He—hath—not—come ! 


THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 


25 


Philip. No. He sent this letter. He thought 
thou were a too reluctant bride and writes to say 
that thine own heart urges thee not and if thou wilt 
he doth release thee. 

Priscilla. Now God grant him long life for 
his wisdom. I cannot tell thee how thy news hath 
lightened my heart. 

Winslow. And comes he not? 

Philip. With the sailing of the next ship he will 
be ready and will come well prepared if thou wilt 
write him, but—’tis all writ in this. (He hands her 
a letter. Priscilla takes the letter and reads it 
while the others watch her in silence) 

Winslow. Comes he, then? 

Priscilla. He says—“Forgive me that I am de¬ 
layed. The next ship shall bring me an thou wilt. 
But not against thy will would I claim thee. If 
thine own heart prompts thee and not thy father’s 
will, my hopes are placed in thee.” 

Winslow. He has writ as a man of honor and 
one worthy. Now thou art free to choose, Priscilla, 
as thou shouldst be. 

Priscilla. Philip, know thou that since I left 
England bereft am I of all my people, and bound to 
Ralph by my father’s word. It doth relieve my soul 
to be absolved thus by thy brother. 

Philip. The ship must bear thy answer back to 
him. 

Winslow. Ay, Priscilla. It is well. 

Philip. And now I’ll take my way to Allerton’s 
home, where I am to lodge. The four I came with 
wait me there. God give thee happiness, Priscilla. 
(He goes) 

Priscilla. ( Going over to Elder and kneeling 
beside him) Oh, I am most heartily grateful. 

Winslow. Thou wouldst never have wed him. 
f That I know better than thyself, Priscilla. 


26 


THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 


Priscilla. I could not. And yet my father’s 
word. But I had forgot. Didst know that Ed¬ 
ward Cushman comes from the Merchant Adven¬ 
turers upon this ship to report of us? 

Winslow. John Alden told me. 

Priscilla. The letter he hath brought hath much 
disturbed the governor. He asked for thee. I told 
him thou wert too ill to stir. He said he would 
come here to see thee. 

Winslow. Upon my soul, I should not wait for 
him thus to call upon me here. Surely I can venture 
forth. 

Priscilla. Delay a little. He will come. (Goes 
to look out) Even now he’s coming. (She keeps 
the door opens and in a moment Bradford en¬ 
ters ) 

Bradford. I came as quickly as I could. I am 
much distressed to find thee ill. I sorely need 
thy counsel. 

Winslow. I should have made haste to meet 
thee, had I known that thou wert coming. Wilt 
thou be seated here? (He leads him to the table 
where Priscilla has placed two chairs) 

Bradford. What thinkest thou of this? (He 
holds up a letter) ’Tis a letter from Weston, pro¬ 
testing because forsooth we returned no lading in 
the Mayflower. 

Winslow. A lading on the Mayflower? 

Bradford. The Merchant Adventurers are much 
displeased with us. 

Winslow. Are they mad to expect a lading and 
the news that went with her? 

Bradford. Hear thou this: “That you sent no 
lading on the Mayflower is wonderful and worthily 
distasteful. I know your weakness was the cause 
of it, and I believe more weakness of judgment than 
weakness of hands. A quarter of the time you 


THE PILGRIMS' HOLIDAY 27 

spent in discoursing and consulting would have done 
much more." 

Winslow. By my soul, a most unfair arraign¬ 
ment. 

Bradford. Particularly do they call the gover¬ 
nor to account and lay heavy imputations on us all. 

Winslow. This ship when she returns will prove 
our disposition. But they which say we spent so 
much time in discussing and consulting, their hearts 
can tell their tongues they lie. 

Bradford. It grieveth me sore that they so abuse 
the good governor, Carver. He oppressed himself 
and shortened his days, as did the others, too. Can 
the lives of so many good men be rated at any 
price ? 

Winslow. Cushman comes as the Adventurers' 
messenger. He comes not then to stay? 

Bradford. Not he. He will return with the lad¬ 
ing. He is chiefly here to make us feel that the ob¬ 
ligation hath not been kept. 

Winslow. We have done all that human might 
could do, and we have borne affliction with as much 
patience and contentedness as any people could do. 
That Cushman must see and report. 

Bradford. What I would ask of thee in par¬ 
ticular is this: He hath prepared a sermon to deliver 
to us touching this matter. The first word, almost 
I had with him, when he gave me the letter was so 
to inform me. Shall we invite him thus to arraign 
our congregation ? 

Priscilla. (Suddenly rising to her feet) In 
faith, good sirs, I have held my tongue until this 
moment, but for my life I can no longer forbear. 
An’ he utters chidings such as thou hast read from 
the letter, the peace of God will have a hard strug¬ 
gle to hold our hearts. 

Winslow. Why dost thou not then summon all 


28 THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 

to hear this letter that^they may be ready for his 
message ? 

Bradford. Indeed, that is just what I have bid¬ 
den John Alden do. I must to my house before 
they are assembled. I wouldst thou might come' 
also. 

Winslow. Forsooth nothing can hold me from 
it. What’s a slight distemper when duty calls ? As¬ 
suredly I’ll go with thee. 

Priscilla. Thou wilt much offend thy good wife 
if thou dost. 

Winslow. This matter is worth even the good 
wife’s scolding, and, indeed, when she hears the 
matter of this letter, I doubt not but all else will 
speedily fly from her thoughts. 

Priscilla. Go thou then, good Elder. Here is 
thy mantle. I’ll try to make thy peace for thee. 

Bradford. Nay, thou must come, too. If thou 
art like to burst with indignation, best do it before 
the matter cometh before thee in the church. 

Alden. (He opens the door after first knock¬ 
ing) Thy company is all assembled. They await 
thy coming. 

Bradford. We come at once. Art ready, Ed¬ 
ward Winslow? 

Winslow. And thou, Priscilla, wilt thou come? 

Bradford. John Alden shall wait and be thy es¬ 
cort, if thou wilt follow soon. 

Priscilla. I shall not keep him waiting. (The 
others go. Alden comes over to Priscilla ) 

Alden. Didst thou mean that, Priscilla, that 
thou wouldst not keep me waiting? In faith that 
is good news to me. How long is it, Priscilla, I’ve 
been waiting for thy answer? Canst thou tell me 
now ? 

Priscilla. John Alden, thou shalt have thy an¬ 
swer. Ralph de la Noye has sent a letter. 




THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 29 

Alden. What meanest thou? La Noye has 
come. 

Priscilla. His brother came/ Not he. 

Alden. His brother? What art thou saying? 

Priscilla. His brother brought his message, 
and mine was ready before e’en I had read it. John 
(Holding out her hands to him), I promised not to 
keep thee waiting. 

Alden. Thou hast been teasing me, Priscilla. 
Thou never meant to wed with de la Noye, nor 
keep thy promise there. 

Priscill^. (Solemnly) ’Twas not my promise, 
John. That thou knowest. My father pledged my 
faith so I was bound in honor to set it right. And 
now ’tis done. 

Alden. Thou hast waited this long in honor to 
thy father, and thou hast not known how ill at ease 
and wretched was my heart. Thou hast been severe 
with me, Priscilla. 

Priscilla. * I never can really quite forgive you, 
John Alden, for bringing me that message from 
Miles Standish. Surely ’twas a desperate thing for 
a lover to do. Art thou speaking for thyself now, 
John ? 

Alden. Most solemnly. Wilt thou, Priscilla, 
tal^e me, John Alden? 

Priscilla. I always meant to take you, John. 

Alden. Priscilla. (He takes her in his arms) 

Priscilla. John Alden. (He kisses her. She 
runs away) Thy boldness increases by the mo¬ 
ment. Nay, John, ’tis not seemly for a maiden. 

Alden. (Kissing her again) Natheless I shall 
repeat it, and thou shalt not hinder me. (Suddenly 
the lights go out, and the whirling light upon the 
wall appears, whirling the other way with a rumb¬ 
ling noise ) 

Priscilla. John, John, something’s gone wrong 


THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 


3 ° 

with the clock. This invention of the twentieth 
century is not working right. Oh, John, it’s swing¬ 
ing back. Take my hand. John, John, help me 
hold the wheels. 

Alden. I’m here, Priscilla. 

Priscilla. Oh, we cannot stop it. It’s running 
fast the other way. What’s going to happen? 
Don’t leave me, John. We will sweep through the 
centuries together. 

Alden. Yes, yes, Priscilla. There’s no such 
thing as time. 

Priscilla. Oh, what a noise and swirl. It deaf¬ 
ens me. 

Alden. The centuries are whirling by. In faith 
but they do rage. (Loud noises are heard) 

Priscilla. What is that terrifying din? 

Alden. The century we lived in has just come 
to its end. (The boom of guns) 

Priscilla. God save us. What is that? 

Alden. The eighteenth century’s begun. (More 
noise) And now ’tis passing. (A terrifying whis¬ 
tle ) The nineteenth is beginning. (A prolonged 
ruba-dud, a trumpet call, a boom, then a roar, a 
sigh and a wheeze) The nineteenth century dies 
hard. (The noise of a steam calliope, a phonograph, 
telephone bell, the whistle of a steamer, and the 
honk of an automobile and the buzzing of an aero¬ 
plane ) 

Priscilla. What a terrible time to live. 

Alden. Yes. Life is getting frightfully com¬ 
plicated. But think hard of something pleasant and 
you’ll not mind so much. 

Priscilla. It’s getting quiet now. 

Alden. We are almost up to date. 

Priscilla. Thank heaven for that. It’s quite 
nerve-racking to sweep through time like this. (A 
loud knock is heard at the door. The lights come 


THE PILGRIMS' HOLIDAY 31 

1 

slowly up. The knock is repeated. John and Pris¬ 
cilla stand looking apprehensively at each other) 

Alden. Shall I open the door? 

Priscilla. Do you know what it is ? 

Alden. I haven’t an idea. 

Priscilla. It’s the advent of the present. 

Alden. What shall I do? 

Priscilla. Open it, John. We can’t escape it. 
(He opens the door and an embarrassed-looking 
Nezv Englander, middle-aged and rather shabbily 
dressed, stands in the door twirling his hat) 

Man. Er—er—er—is this John Alden? 

Alden. You are right, sir. 

Man. And this, I take it, is Priscilla Mullins. 

Priscilla. (Curtsying) Quite so. 

Man. My name’s John Alden, too, eighth gen¬ 
eration. Just arrived from Duxbury to fetch you. 

Priscilla. Won’t you come in, Mr. Alden ? 

Man. No, thank you. * It’s awkward talking to 
relatives you’ve never seen. I’ve just come to tell 
you there’s a big pageant on in our town, 300 years 
of history, got a great invention just patented, 
greatest movie ever made, turns back recorded his¬ 
tory. I was sort of afraid there might be some sort 
of conflict in the mechanism. I heard tell you had 
some contraption or another and I was afraid you 
might get tangled up in the past and not be able to 
get out. I’m glad everything’s all right. You’ll 
come ? 

Alden. We’ll be there directly. 

Man. Good day, then. I’ll see you later. (He 
bows awkwardly and disappears) 

Priscilla. (Sitting down and gasping) So. 
That’s our great-great-great-great-great-great grand¬ 
son ! (She heaves a terrible sigh) 

Alden. Do you feel disillusioned? 

Priscilla. You must confess, it’s startling to 


THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 


\ 


32 

skip from your betrothal to an interview with your 
great-great, well, you know how many great, grand¬ 
son. 

Alden. I do admit he wasn’t very prepossess¬ 
ing. 

Priscilla. I don’t minek'that. But I am awfully 
disappointed. I didn’t want ttr-run into the twen¬ 
tieth century. ; I wanted to finish that love scene. 
,t And I wanted to listen again to that sermon Cush¬ 
man got off. (Laughs heartily) Wasn’t that the 
greatest joke in history? 

Alden. Yes, but we didn’t see it then. 

Priscilla. No. That joke didn’t penetrate my 
consciousness until a hundred years later. A bit de¬ 
layed even for the English. 

Alden. Priscilla, the twentieth century is mak¬ 
ing you frivolous. 

Priscilla. I must keep up with my descendents. 

Alden. Don’t slander your family. They’re 
quite remarkable people, and what a host of them. 
Let me see. Beginning with our family of eleven 
and proceeding in arithmetical progression they 
should number- 

Priscilla. Now, John, if you are going to be 
geneological, I shall be bored. Geneology is so 
dull. 

Alden. But one of my greatest pleasures is in 
counting my descendents. 

Priscilla. John, John, please forget for a few 
moments you are a Pilgrim Father. Besides, you 
know you are not, in this semblance. You donned 
your youth to-day. Don’t disgrace it. If you keep 
on, you’ll spoil the memory I’m holding, and bring 
our age. You’ll be a gray beard and I a grand 
dame. Don’t. Please don’t, John. 

Alden. I can’t help it, Priscilla. This is an 
historical occasion. I think that great-great-great 



THE PILGRIMS’ HOLIDAY 


33 

great-great-great grandson is putting on the record 
he was talking about. 

Priscilla. Quick, then; say good-bye to these 
good people, before we moult like spring fowl be¬ 
fore their eyes. (They take hands and come down 
stage) Dear people of the twentieth century- 

Alden. Yes, and the spirits of all others, too- 

Priscilla. „ We’ve had such a delightful remini- 
sence- 

Alden. And we hate to go- 

Priscilla. But we have to- 

Alden. This memorial is keeping us scheduled 
up to every minute- 

Priscilla'. G6od-bye. We got to don our mid¬ 
dle-age. 

Alden. But we w r on’t forget this evening. 

Priscilla. It’s the happiest memory that we 
have. Good-bye. Good-bye. The whistle’s blow¬ 
ing. 

Alden. Hurry, Priscilla. 

Priscilla. (With a final curtsy to the audience) 
I’m coming, John. (They hastily make their exit, 
closing the door after them) 


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